


Not In That Way

by bulletproofbackrubs



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:33:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5239907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletproofbackrubs/pseuds/bulletproofbackrubs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based of an unrequited love playlist on 8tracks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not In That Way

You’d like to think it was fate (because what can you say, you’re a total romantic) that you happened to spot her that day, looking skeptical and downright bored as she glanced around the activities fair.

But the moment you felt that connection with her was the day after, when you heard her voice echoing off of the shower stall walls, sending a thrill through your whole nervous system. And you hadn’t even known it was her.

She sang with you, for you - and you’d never felt an energy like it, and doubt you will again. Heart and hands buzzing, you didn’t even care that you’re both stark naked; with the way she smiled at you, she’d have stripped you bare anyway.

You’d understood her then, always have. Even when your best friend didn’t. She’s always been grateful to you for that, for believing in her when no one else did. But she returns the favour, always has. She inspires you to be a better person; she makes you wholesome and happy. And so that’s why you tell yourself that it doesn’t matter that she doesn’t love you in the same way that you love her. Because you’ll always love her, and she’ll always love you - the foundations don’t matter.

But it still hurts.

—————————

Jesse is a good man. He loves her, adores every inch of her. You’d like to think it’s as much as you do, but you really don’t think that could be possible.

There isn’t anyone else you’d trust her with (except yourself). You know Jesse will take care of her in the ways that you can’t. You feel guilty, dirty almost for the way your stomach lurches when she’s watching him, smiling and laughing. Loving him. Because she’s happy, and that’s all you could ever want. And it makes you feel guilty.

You don’t know what you’re doing after graduation, you have no direction or goal. As always you’re just waiting for her to guide you by the hand to a place where you feel warm and safe. You don’t believe in comparing yourself to others; everyone is different and that’s what makes them beautiful. But Jesse has goals, has a future set up for himself, and her. He’ll make her happy, and that’s all you could ever want.

But these things don’t stop you from screaming inside, asking her to leave him. Endless nights of pain as she follows him, sleeps in his arms and not yours. But you scream inside, asking her to follow you instead.

You don’t though. Because he makes her happy. And that’s all you could ever want.

—————————–

It’s whispered as you’re both curled up in bed (usually yours; she prefers your room). And it’s exchanged every time either of you go on a long drive or an airplane. It’s shouted in each others ears on stage when you’re screaming with joy and pride after performing with your best friends. It’s said when you’re holding each other tightly while the other cries after some form of heartbreak (or sometimes a stressful day).

You hate saying it; it makes you ache everywhere. It aches because you can’t tell her how much you mean it, even though it’s screaming inside you - sometimes so loudly you’re certain she must be able to hear it too. You love her. Need her. Want her.

But you don’t dare tell her. You don’t ask her to leave her lover. Because you know that her reply will be enough to shatter you.

_“I’m sorry, believe me, I love you. But not in that way.”_

——————————-

Her electric blue eyes, pupils dilated from one too many rum and cokes always find a way to find you. They pierce through you, entrance you and sets your heart racing. You want to have them on you for the rest of your life - even if they set your body on fire.

You feel like a fool; your friends look at you sympathetically when she pulls you towards her to dance. But you both live and breathe music - live and breathe each other. So you can only blindly follow, clinging to her hips for support to stop you from drowning. It’s you who drives her home, because she’s an obnoxious dork and she always wears heels to parties even though she always falls. So you’re the one to pick her up. Always.

She’s kissed you like this before, three times; alcohol always makes her more affectionate. Her electric blue eyes, looking at you with so much love and sometimes, passion, on nights like this. Whether it’s for the music or you, you’re not sure. It kills you, but her eyes are something you’d happily die at the mercy of.

——————————-

Rarely do you see her vulnerable. She goes through life with a titanium armour, built from years of let downs, betrayal and disappointments. Sometimes though, she breaks. And it’s always in front of you.

You hold her in her bouts of sadness and fear, wrap your arms around her tightly to keep her together and tell her you’ll always be there. She will always have you, no matter what.

And she believes you.

When her tears have subsided, her body reduced to shivering instead of shaking with sobs, you have whispered conversations that etch themselves onto your heart.

 

“You smell really nice, like, all the time.”

“Courtesy of Bath and Body Works ‘Warm Vanilla Sugar’ shower gel.”

“…..It smells like home.”

\---

“Will you always be my best friend?”

“Forever.”

\---

“…Please don’t go.”

“I told you, I’m not going  _anywhere_.”

\---

“Chloe? Do you have a middle name?”

“Laura.”

“Really? Why did I never know that?”

“I never found it necessary to mention, to be honest.”

“Of course it’s necessary. It’s your name. It’s you. Chloe Laura Beale. Hmm. It’s pretty. It’s you.”

\---

“Do you fall in love easily?”

“People tell me that, yeah.”

“God.. that’s so scary. How do you do that?”

“Fall in love? I can’t really help it, Beca. It just happens.”

“I figured you would. You always have so much to give away.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“….I don’t know.”

\---

“What’s your favourite word?”

“Phantasmagoria. Don’t look at me like that! You asked. It’s just a fancy word for ‘awesome.’ What’s your favourite word?” 

“Fuck.”

“Of course it is.”

\---

“Chloe… Have you ever kissed a girl?”

“Yeah.”

“…Did you like it?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“…Just asking.”

———————————–

You never ask where she’s been - you’re scared your face might give it away when she tells you what you already know. Because she chooses him. Sometimes.

And you choose her, every time.

Sometimes she does choose you though, the nights you whisper quietly in the dark as if you both can’t allow yourselves to hear them in the light, scared it’ll make the tiny truths all too real and exposed.

But you don’t say anything on the occasions she doesn’t choose you. Because you know she does. Sometimes. And that’s enough.

You hold some of her heart - just a little bit. And that’s enough.

It has to be enough.


End file.
